


Braid

by die_traumerei



Series: The Spider, The Soldier, and Steve [2]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst, Angst and Fluff, Asexual Character, Asexual Steve Rogers, Bisexual Bucky Barnes, Bisexual Steve Rogers, Bruce Is a Good Bro, Comfort, Cuddling, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Kissing, M/M, Multi, Polyamory, SO MUCH FLUFF, Thor Is a Good Bro, Threesome, Threesome - F/M/M, everyone loves on everyone else, how to include your asexual partner, mention of depression, steve is a dingbat, they go out and destroy hyrda bases in their spare time
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-12
Updated: 2014-11-14
Packaged: 2018-02-25 02:05:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 14,022
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2604599
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/die_traumerei/pseuds/die_traumerei
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In between destroying Hydra bases, Nat and Bucky fall for each other.  But why have two in a bed, when three is better?  A story in which Steve is understandably a little terrified about basically everything, Natasha eats pancakes like there's no tomorrow, Bucky is so not suave first thing in the morning, and lots of shit gets blown up.</p><p>(This is set before A Little Night Music)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

“Roof's clear.” Bucky's voice crackled over the comms. “Meet you inside.”

“Roger that,” Nat replied, as she and Steve cautiously rose from the cover of the overgrown brush. A few shots destroyed the lock to the small, unassuming door, and Steve wrenched it open, using the shield as a lever.

“What.”

“I know. Who knew Hydra had such a hard-on for fine architecture?” Bucky appeared out of the shadows, moving cautiously to the doorway. Instead of the warehouse they'd expected, the door opened onto a walkway a good eight feet wide. To their right, where Bucky had come from, it spiraled up the outside of the building, stopping twenty feet below the ceiling. To the left, it spiraled down for at least four levels. The center of the building was empty, lit only through what pale sunlight seeped through the huge skylight. A brighter spot showed where Bucky had kicked through the glass and rappelled down.

“It's not _exactly_ the Guggenheim,” Steve said dryly, peering over the edge, looking for movement, signs of life, _anything_. “But yeah, pretty close.”

“I promise not to shoot any fine art,” Nat said, moving cautiously to the left, Bucky dropping back to provide covering fire if necessary. “Probably.”

“Seems pretty quiet – maybe we got a deserted one. And hey, there's an artist that shoots paint-filled balloons, maybe you could make a name for yourself – _Nat_!”

Movement across from Steve, he and Bucky turning in perfect concert. His shield knocked the thrown grenade down into the center of the building just as Bucky opened fire, taking out whoever it was in three succinct shots. (Steve suspected that the first shot had done it, but better safe than sorry.) The shield was back in his hands and he and Bucky crouched behind it as the grenade blew and glass rained down, the skylight shattered by the shockwave.

“Steven G. Rogers, for the umpteenth time, _never_ announce that we are surely alone,” Nat said, brushing herself off. “Just for that you're on point.”

“Oh, come on, one of these times I've got to be right,” Steve said, stepping to the left so Bucky could take out the Hydra agent running towards them. “Oh, good shot.”

“They're always good. And Nat's right. Also you're on dishwashing duty all week.”

“Awww, _Buck_.” They had made it down a full level when Nat turned and started firing behind them. Steve's shield took out the bulk of the soldiers, and Bucky ducked gracefully as it returned, finishing off the small battalion that had thought to take them out.

“Did they really think they'd have a numbers advantage in a small corridor? Didn't the Spartans figure out that didn't work or something?” Nat scowled, loading a fresh clip. “I don't like how stupid this is.”

“Unless they never expected to have to defend the space. Not with manpower,” Bucky said thoughtfully. They kept walking down the sloping corridor, now clearly-lit from the weak winter sunlight. Steve couldn't see his face, between the mask and the dark eye protection, but there was just the smallest, slightest crack in his voice, the one that said The Winter Soldier was still alive and well and remembering.

“Things looking familiar?” he asked carefully. The building had gone quiet again, but their intel suggested at least two levels below what they could see.

Bucky raised one hand, wobbling it back and forth. “Not sure. Pretty memorable place, you know?”

“Mmm.” They had reached the lowest level. The concrete walls were smooth and unbroken, as was the floor – with the exception of the glass covering it.

“Spiral in to look for a door, a different sound on the floor, anything,” Nat decided finally. They were unlikely to be surprised, the three of them back-to-back.

“No. Wait.” Bucky strode across the floor, stopping just to the left of the center and dropped to one knee, carefully brushing away the shattered glass. “Here.” He pressed down on the floor in two spots, only a foot or two apart, then rose swiftly so he would be behind the piece of floor that hinged back, rising up.

Nat and Steve exchanged looks and she shrugged, pulling the pin out of a grenade and lobbing it into the hole.

The explosion didn't seem to stir anything, so they descended, Steve, then Nat, then Bucky covering their rear. A thin staircase led them to a viewing platform, the glass blown out here as well. Only three feet wide, it stretched, Steve estimated, a good twenty yards, a solid wall on one side and painted cinderblock wall up to his waist on the other.

The platform looked down onto two open rooms. The first seemed to be a quickly-abandoned office; Steve could see folders left out, scattered and messy. He nodded to Nat and she started down the staircase that led into the lower level, already pulling out the small scanner Tony had provided them with.

The next room made Steve inhale sharply, his hands curling into fists involuntarily. This room was stark, brightly lit, and entirely empty but for a chair in the middle of the room, clearly rigged for mind-wiping. A drain off to one side still had faint dark stains around it.

Bucky made a low sound, joining Steve at the low wall, looking down into the small room. “Guess I _was_ remembering this place,” he managed, his voice grating in the way it had when he'd first come back.

“Bucky...”

“I'm _fine_ Steve.”

Steve sighed, and fished out a fist-sized cube, handing it over to Bucky. “I know. Just thought you might like to do the honors.”

“Yeah. Yeah, thanks. Sorry.”

“You can take me out to dinner when we're back in New York.”

Bucky huffed, a sound nearly a laugh. “Delmonico's. You and me, kid.”

“If I have to listen to the two of you flirt, I get dinner too.”

“We're not--”

“I'll take you both out to dinner,” Bucky said, and Steve could _hear_ him wink. “She's right, Stevie. Not that I blame you for trying to chat me up, of course...”

“Oh my God, shut up Bucky Barnes,” Steve muttered. “See if I ever do anything nice for you again.”

“Nat, he's letting me blow things up and then trying to say he's not flirting with me.”

“If I ever let you blow something up, I will definitely be flirting with you,” Natasha assured him. “Now if the two of you could shut up for ten seconds, I've got about a thousand pages to scan.”

Steve turned sharply towards the door, a single hiss getting them to truly quiet. He walked silently towards the doorway and swore not-so-silently. A chopper was hovering over the center of the building and he could see Hydra soldiers rappelling down, hitting the building at various levels, some of them already on the wide floor. “We've got company. Bucky, set the explosive, Nat, we're out with whatever you've got.

“Not enough, but something,” she said, her voice tight. “Hope you boys like Poland.”

“Szczecin is lovely this time of year,” Bucky said, lobbing the powerful little explosive (also StarkTech, and Steve would be forever grateful for Tony turning his hand to these little bombs again, just for them) and turning, just to the left of Steve and barely a step behind him. Nat raced up the stairs to join them, already opening fire as she emerged from the entranceway.

They were lucky; only a dozen or so in the open area, and between Bucky and Nat that was soon a dozen bodies, Steve with his sidearm picking off anyone firing at them from the wraparound walkway. They ran up the walkways, creating a little phalanx behind Steve's shield, Bucky providing covering fire ahead and Nat picking off Hydra agents to their open side. With Steve setting the pace (and running _through_ various individuals a few times), they cleared the front door and scattered, disappearing into the brushy forest that surrounded the unimpressive cylindrical building.

Bucky detonated the explosive as soon as they were clear, about halfway up the hill they had designated the meeting point. Steve missed the moment of explosion – beyond the verbal warning over the comms – but he settled down against a boulder and allowed himself a moment of pure pleasure, watching that evil place burn.

Bucky emerged from the forest first, sitting down beside him and taking off his mask and eyewear. He sat close, his legs brushing against Steve's, and rested his head back on Steve's shoulder. He was quiet, but his face was calm, and Steve wrapped his arm around Bucky's shoulders, squeezing just a little.

Nat appeared a few seconds later, and settled into Steve's other side, and it was natural as anything to put his arm around her, too.

“James.”

Bucky looked over at her, and she smiled, and he smiled back. Steve wondered for a moment if he ought to do something like get the hell out of the way, but Bucky was already reaching over to rest his hand on Steve's knee, and then Nat rested her hand on his, and Steve simply smiled.

“Well done, team.”

 

* * *

 

“So, wait, Steve's a virgin? Really?”

“Why is this a topic of discussion?” Steve asked plaintively.

“The Avengers are extremely bad at boundaries. Also, you thought head-first was a great way to go through a wall, and this is our creative way of punishing you,” Nat explained.

“Mostly the boundaries thing,” Clint offered cheerfully. “So, no, seriously? I guess I can kinda understand sickly, tiny and angry not getting much play, but no one would kick you outta bed these days.”

“Actually--” Bucky raised his hand and grinned at the look Steve gave him from where he lay, head in Bucky's lap and stretched out along the sofa. “Oh, get over yourself, it's 'cause you're a blanket hog and you've been one since Prohibition.”

“You...share a bed?”

Bucky shrugged. “Sometimes. I get nightmares,” he said, a little stiffly, and Clint nodded. The lack of boundaries amongst the Avengers wasn't just restricted to conversation – they'd all huddled together at one time or another, in twos or threes or more, seeking comfort for whatever reason.

“Going back to Steve's virginity...”

Steve groaned, and rested his forearm over his eyes. “Hawkeye, I know it's the future and everyone is extremely ready to share their most personal thoughts, and I am very happy for all of you, but leave a guy alone. It's just not anything I've ever wanted, okay? I've been on dates, I just...would rather go home alone, okay?”

“Oh. Okay.”

“Then may I offer a welcome to the Asexual Club, Cap,” Bruce said, and when Steve looked over at him, he was smiling, kind and welcoming.

“Huh?”

“Asexual. Not desiring sexual relationships with others. A pretty imprecise definition, but it'll work for now.” Bruce grinned when Steve nodded slowly. “It doesn't preclude a romantic relationship, or anything like that. Just that you don't feel the need to stick tab A in slot B, so to speak.”

“I...this is a thing?”

“Yeah,” Bruce's voice was gentler than usual. “Oh, God, yeah. Steve, it's totally okay, it's just another sexuality. It's completely healthy and everything..” He shrugged, and settled back in the easy chair. “I was kidding about the club thing, but I can send you stuff to read if you want.”

“Um. Thank you.”

“You're welcome.” Bruce grinned at him. “So. Dates. How did I not know you went on dates?”

Steve groaned, then opened his eyes. “Wait, you're not all gonna make fun of me for being a virgin and happy to stay that way? Really?”

“No they are not,” Bucky growled, curling one hand around Steve's shoulder. It had been made very clear that only Bucky was allowed to make fun of Steve, with the privilege extended to others only at appropriate times. (Nat's 'appropriate times' were always, but only because Bucky regularly fell off of pieces of furniture from laughing at her and Steve torturing each other.)

“Well, no. Like Bruce said, it's a thing. Do whatever makes you happy.” Clint shrugged, and grabbed for the games controller. “Right, who wants to lose at Mario Kart?”

“That would be you, then,” Nat said, reaching for the other controller. She sat down on the floor, back against Bucky's legs, and reached up to pat Steve's shoulder wordlessly before going on to retain her reigning title.

Steve and Bucky begged off early, claiming the last dregs of a concussion and laziness, respectively, and walked back to their shared apartment, a few floors down from the common area in the Avengers Tower.

“Don't think I didn't notice you deflecting the question about who you dated,” Bucky said, slinging an arm around Steve's shoulders.

Steve laughed, and wrapped his arm around Bucky's waist. “That's 'cause it was boring. A few girls Nat set me up with, a few guys Maria Hill set me up with. They were nice but...not a lot of shared life experience, you know?” He shrugged, and smiled when Bucky's arm tightened around his shoulders. “So there's a word for me. Maybe.” He paused, and then said more quietly, “Definitely. I think. I mean, I'm pretty sure...”

“Steve, there's always been a word for you, just not one I can say in public.” Bucky paused and turned to him. “Hey. You know you're my best friend, no matter what, right?”

“Yeah, I got that along the way.” Steve wrapped his arms around Bucky nonetheless, and rested his head on the other man's shoulder for a moment. “Thanks,” he whispered.

“Figured you might need reminding, what with you trying to break that head of yours. Don't know if those three brain cells o' yours got scrambled.”

“I didn't _mean_ to--”

“Uh huh.” Bucky started walking again, arm still firmly around Steve and pulling him along. “Do I need to make sure you'll keep breathing through the night?”

“Nah,” Steve said, rubbing the back of his head. “It's pretty much already healed. Thanks, though.”

“Anytime. See you at breakfast, Steve.” Bucky smiled at him, an expression that made Steve's heart do funny things, and they parted ways to their respective bedrooms.

 

* * *

 

“Natasha, I'm not complaining, but when did sexuality become this intensely complex thing?” Steve looked up from his StarkPad, looking more than slightly lost. “Bruce sent me a _worksheet_.”

Nat laughed and came to perch on the arm of the sofa, peering over his shoulder. “It was always complex, just now people talk about it more or less sensibly. And naming helps.”

“I guess? Yes?” Steve scrolled down a little bit. “I always thought it was 'cause I was sick all the time, and no one was lookin' twice at me anyway.”

“And after the serum?”

“There was a small war on, you may have heard of it.” Steve smiled when Nat combed her fingers through his hair and gave it a healthy yank. “Ow.”

“Such a baby. Hey.” She rocked his head back, forcing Steve to look her in the eye. “Did Bruce give you the extended version of the 'it's totally normal and don't let anyone make you think you're wrong or sick or anything like that' talk?”

“Yes. So did Jane. And Janet. And _Tony_ , which was not a thing I needed.”

Natasha paused and blinked. “I would pay to see that. But good.” She let Steve's hair go. “How's the worksheet going, anyway?”

“Um. Less confusing than I thought?” Steve turned it so she could see. (For heaven's sake she was his best friend after Bucky, and knowing her skills, she could probably have filled it out _for_ him.) “Asexual seems to fit really well. I'm not sex-repulsed as far as I can tell. Um, definitely pan-romantic. Or bi-romantic, I can't really decide.”

“And poly?”

“Nat, I can't even date _one_ person successfully, I'm not gonna tackle that just yet.” Steve shrugged. “I mean, instinctively, sure, whatever. I don't get really jealous or anything. I don't know, though, not really, and I'd be scared of experimenting, and hurting someone.”

“There's no law that says you have to figure it all out today,” Nat soothed, stroking his back.

“What about you? I mean, if you don't mind telling me,” he added hastily.

Nat scrolled back up, reading through the options. “Demi-romantic and demi-sexual. Heterosexual by choice, although women are okay, I guess. Poly is okay too.” She shrugged, and Steve's heart hurt to watch her curl in on herself. “I can seduce anyone, really, if the situation calls for it. Labels...are not anything I can relate to, historically.”

“Hey. Not anymore, you hear me?” Steve pulled her into a hug. “Never again, unless you want to, unless you're okay with it.”

“God, Bucky was right, you are a sap.” She stayed close for a moment, though, all that strength held in Steve's arms. “C'mon. Let's go get coffee and annoy Sam at work, he's in New York this week.”

Steve grinned, and set the StarkPad aside. “Okay. He probably won't mind as long as we bring him a hot chocolate.”

“He _definitely_ won't mind, they just got their new yearly budget, we should probably plan on spiking his drink.”

Steve shuddered, and followed her out of the room.

 

* * *

 

“Where did Captain America learn how to pick locks?”

“Somewhere in Northern Italy. He used to be a damn sight faster about it, though.”

“Bucky, shut up. A twenty-first century Hydra facility has _slightly_ better security than a cheap 40's hotel.”

“Yeah Bucky, Steve here's gotta take his time, remember all our newfangled tech like magnets.” Steve could _hear_ Nat winking, and he thought briefly of reaching behind to give her a swat, but A) Nat hit back twice as hard and B) he needed both hands, traditional lock-pick in one and the digital cryptanalyst working its way through the layers of security in the other. Besides, he had both parts of the lock open and the locks opening with loud, satisfying clunks before Bucky could come up with a smart-ass answer.

“Ma'am.” He bowed, opened the door, and Bucky chucked a grenade in with the pitch that hadbeen the envy of, well, Steve. (Bucky was not a great ballplayer, but his argument for why the DH rule destroyed baseball was a thing of beauty _and_ had got both him and Steve banned from talking baseball within thirty yards of Avengers Tower.)

They waited just in case a swarm of particularly stupid Hydra agents was going to appear, then opened the door and went in, single file with Bucky on point. This particular cell was on a windswept cliff in some abandoned corner of northeast England, and Steve was quietly grateful to have the endless bitter wind cut off as they slipped into the domed space.

It wasn't particularly large, maybe thirty feet in diameter, and had clearly been long-abandoned. An empty table lay on its side, and there was dust everywhere, visible under the single, bright, sodium light that had snapped on as soon as they entered. Their recon photos had shown another four domed spaces like this placed in a ring nearly half a mile wide, covered walkways linking them together.

“Sunwise or widdershins?” Black Widow mused. “Let's be predictable morally-grey vigilantes.” She turned right, and headed for the corridor, open and doorless.

“Hey, what d'you mean by that?” Steve protested as he and Bucky followed, spinning around and walking backwards so he could check their tail.

“Steve, you do know we're assassins who were trained by the Red Room, and we have deployed those skills for groups who are not exactly legally-sanctioned, right?” Bucky said, the amusement clear in his voice. “I include the Avengers in that.”

“No, I was not aware of that,” Steve said sarcastically. “Just remember, we're fighting some pretty clear-cut bad guys here, okay?”

“Don't worry,” Nat said, laughing. “You're still the good man, Steve. We won't get our moral ambiguity all over you or anything.”

“Don't even joke about that,” Steve said, his voice sharp and angry enough to stop the Black Widow in her tracks. “Natalia Romanova, don't you _ever_ say that.”

She turned, her face cool and neutral, and Steve forced her to meet his eyes. “You could never...it doesn't work like that. I will _never_ be ashamed to call you my friend, my fellow Avenger, part of my team. I will never be anything less than proud to fight by your side – that goes for both of you,” he said, turning that piercing gaze on Bucky. “You both do the things I can't, and I will always be grateful for that. I don't care what's in your ledgers, either of you. I care that you're two of the exactly three people in the world I would trust with my life and with _each others'_ lives. None of us are any better or worse than the others. Do I make myself clear?”

They both nodded, Natasha about-facing and walking down the corridor, and Steve pretended that he hadn't caught sight of the flicker of emotion that changed that cool expression, if only for a moment.

Bucky caught his gaze, though, and smiled, so sad and tired and sweet that Steve suddenly felt the full weight of the years they both carried. He matched the smile, and they turned, following Nat to the next room.

“What the hell is this?” Bucky breathed, as the lights flickered on. This dome had had a door, but one easily opened with a well-placed gunshot. Unlike the dome they had entered through, this one was full.

Of children's toys.

“Oh my God.” Steve walked into the room, turning around slowly. Tiny cribs were pushed to the outer perimeter of the room, the center cleared but for the stuffed animals and toys that lay scattered around. The carpet was light blue, and someone had painted the walls green. They had added cartoonish animals. A family of bunnies frolicked by the door they had entered through, and a sun smiled down from the dome, a moon across from it with the same childish expression.

“They kept children here,” Bucky breathed, going over to inspect the cribs. They were simple but sturdy, unpainted wood with light blue blankets inside of them. “Babies.”

“Yes, they did,” Nat said, her voice still flat and sharp. “Burn it. There's nothing here.”

Steve looked over at her, already frowning, when he caught sight of movement out of the corner of one eye. “Look out!” He got his shield up in time to deflect the steady rifle-fire that was emerging just below a leaping deer. “Out! Out of here!”

They retreated down the next corridor, Natasha firing steadily over Steve's shoulder to try and take out the unseen firearms.

“Wait,” she ordered, before they could go any further. She held out her hand for one of the little silvery cubes that Steve carried with him. Cautiously, she opened the door and tossed it through, gentle as anything. She said something in Russian, but Steve didn't ask, not from the way Bucky appeared to studiously not be listening.

The third dome held nothing, had only a bare concrete floor with a drain in the middle. Steve couldn't hold back a shiver, and he dropped the silver cube and kept going, taking point down the next short corridor.

This one had more abandoned cribs lined up along it. They were empty, bare and sad-looking under the harsh lights, and Steve refused to let himself think about them, or think about what Hydra had done with babies in this godforsaken place.

Nat marched past him and nearly ripped the door off of its hinges getting into the next dome. This one was an office space, with filing cabinets and desks, everything still neat, almost pristine.

Bucky took the first cabinet, finding nothing until the very back of the bottom drawer. A single folder, clearly forgotten when the place was abandoned. He opened it carefully, hands gone gentle, and Steve came over to peer over his shoulder.

The documents inside were entirely in English, but he reached over Bucky's arm to lift out a picture of a baby that caught his eye first. He (or she?) was wearing only a diaper, and was lying on a metal table. The baby's hands were reaching for something behind the camera, the only real sign that the child was alive.

“What was their name?” Steve asked in the choking hush of the room.

Bucky turned over another paper, his mouth a thin line, anger making his jaw clench. “They never named her. She's just Girl 384.”

Natasha closed the last of the file shelves, controlled and calm. “There's nothing in here. We're too...whatever they did here, they left long ago.”

Bucky drew in a sharp breath, but snapped the folder closed before Steve could see what he'd been reading. “Nat's right. There's nothing here for us. We burn the place.” He dropped the folder on top of the cabinet and walked across the room just a little too quickly.

“Should we-- she might still be around--”

“She isn't, Steve. Let her rest, okay?”

“Okay,” Steve said quietly. “She'll rest, Bucky.” He took point again, kicking down the doors to the next two domes, both of them empty, nothing but stained, smooth concrete. He placed the last two bombs, and they left the eerie, frozen place behind.

The air was cold and sharp and smelled like the sea, and Steve was glad of it, feeling the evil dampness of the Hydra camp drain away in the whipping wind. They climbed up a gentle hill studded with boulders and sat at the top, Nat in the middle and Bucky and Steve on either side of her.

“Would you like to do the honors?” he asked, handing the detonator over, and Natasha's face never changed as she reduced the domes and corridors to rubble.

It was Bucky who opened his arms to her, the two of them curling together, holding her tight against the wind and the smell of fire. Steve stood quietly, watching the landscape around them, well aware that they were visible for miles around here, but not willing to leave the pyre they'd created.

He tried to stand in the wind, wanting the sharpness, and hoping he could shelter the two behind him, just a bit.

 

* * *

 

“Stevie, help.”

“No I will not do your laundry for you.”

“Not _that_.” Bucky scowled. “Besides I just take it to the Tower and JARVIS takes care of it.”

“Bucky, we have a washer and dryer _in our apartment_ and you haul your stuff into Manhattan...never mind. What do you need help with?”

“Possibly staying alive.” Bucky crawled onto the bed where Steve _had_ been trying to capture the way the light fell through the windows, and laid his head on Steve's legs. “I think I'm suicidal.”

Steve started at that, frowning and sitting up. “Bucky, really? That's not good, I know you have bad days but I didn't realize--”

Bucky held up his hand. “Sorry, sorry, no, not really. Bad choice of words.” He took Steve's hand in both of his, playing with his fingers, tracing the fine bones that showed through the skin. “I think I'm falling for Natasha.”

Steve let out a low whistle. “You can sure pick 'em Buck.”

Bucky scowled. “I _know_ . But it's l ike you said, about shared life experiences, you know? And...she's young, like us. Like we _really_ are, and fuck Stark and his grandpa jokes. She's younger than you, even.”

“Yeah, I know what you mean,” Steve said quietly. “She's...you and she work really well together, you know? I love going out into the field with both of you.”

Bucky smiled up at him. “We do, don't we? I _like_ her, Stevie. I like how she makes fun of me, and how she knows when it's a bad day so she rubs my shoulders and scritches my hair. I like how she's beautiful. I like sparring with her.”

“Technically you've already taken her on a date. I mean, I was there too, but you could try to ask for another one,” Steve said. Bucky and Nat were good for each other, that was absolutely clear from months spent in close quarters with the two of them, tracking down Hydra.

(That he had once wished he could fit with them too; that was a thought to be pushed down. The fact that the best night of the year had been spent going out for steak with the two of them – well, they were friends after all, and Bucky was a flirt and so was Nat, and that was all. He'd never be able to give either of them what they wanted.)

“You think she would let me survive the night?”

“Only if she had a good time.” Steve laughed at the long moan Bucky emitted at this. “Stop it, you big baby. You're handsome and charming and the two of you are great together. Ask her out for a drink, don't try to grab her bottom, and show her a good time. She might even enjoy herself.”

“Steven, are you being _genuine_ with me?”

“Bucky, you're a catch.” Steve freed his hand a moment to brush a lock of Bucky's hair off of his face. “Really. Ask her. If she says no _I'll_ take _you_ out and get you drunk.”

Bucky's smile was wide and silly and perfect. “Okay. Thanks Stevie.” He rolled off the bed and wandered out, presumably to figure out where he'd left his phone this time.

Steve smiled, watching him go. They'd make each other happy. He reached for his laptop and pulled up the shared Avengers calendar, checking when Bruce was going to be in New York next. They'd planned to have dinner together soon, just to check in with each other. He really liked Bruce, and it'd be a great night.

 

* * *

[Steve's texts are **in bold** _ **,**_ Bucky's _in italics_.]

**Wanna go for a run?**

_SLEEPING_

**Ha ha, fine.**

**Breakfast is ready.**

**And lunch, you okay Buck?**

_No_

 

Steve did _not_ bend reality to get to Bucky's bedroom door, no matter what it felt like. He knocked softly and called “Can I come in?”

He counted to thirty, and with no answer, opened the door just a crack and peered in. “Hey, Buck. It's me, it's just me.”

He didn't see Bucky, technically, but the lump of rolled-up blankets in the middle of the bed was roughly Bucky-sized, and this wasn't the first time they'd had a day like this. Steve padded across the room and sat on the edge of the bed. “Make some kind of noise if you don't want me to touch you, please.”

Silence.

He lay down – Bucky's bed was as huge as his, and there was plenty of room for both of them – and rested his hand about where he guessed Bucky's shoulder would be under the blankets. “Hey. I'm here, Buck. I've got you.”

The lump rolled over, and Steve rubbed what was indeed Bucky's shoulder. He was hunched over a little, his face tilted down and his hair a mess. Steve could just make out the dark circles under his eyes, and when Bucky looked up for a moment it was clear he had been crying for some time.

“Oh, sweetheart.” Steve pulled him into an embrace, Bucky's face against his chest. “I'm sorry. I should've checked on you earlier. Really bad day, huh?”

Bucky nodded.

“I'm so sorry. I'm here now, though, you don't have to do this alone.” He kissed the top of Bucky's head. The days like this still came, would always come, but it had been a long time since he remembered one this bad, when Bucky stopped talked, stopped _everything_ , didn't even fight him when Steve took care of him. “Did you take your meds?”

A nod.

“Good. That's really good.” Steve rubbed his back a little, pressing to make sure Bucky would feel through the quilts. “Think you could eat, if I brought you something?”

A violent shake of the head no.

“All right. One day without food won't hurt you. Tap your mouth twice if you get hungry though, okay?”

A nod.

“Hey. D'you want me to call Nat? She's...she's really good with stuff like this. She was good with me, when I was such a mess.” Bucky and Nat were currently facing down their fourth date, and no one had killed anyone yet, and Steve loved watching the way Bucky spent hours getting ready, the way Nat smiled just a little more as she moved through their lives.

A long pause, then a nod.

“We'll both spoil you rotten,” Steve said fondly, and hesitated. “Uh. Unless you want to be with just her?”

A low, angry-sad noise and Bucky all but head-butted Steve, who couldn't help but smile, because he was the _worst_ person, the absolute most selfish person ever for being happy that Bucky still wanted him near. “Okay, okay! I'm not going anywhere. Never gonna leave you, Buck, you know that.” He kept one arm around the man pressed to his side, and texted Nat with his free hand. “She'll be breaking into our apartment before you know what's hit you.”

A weak chuckle and Steve looked down at him, surprised and pleased. “Well, she will.”

Bucky nodded, and nuzzled closer, his eyes drifting closed.

As predicted, Bucky's bedroom window slid open a very short time later, and Nat crawled through.

“Good grief, did you fly here?”

“Yes. Clint dropped me off in one of Stark's helicopters. What?”

Steve shook his head. “Never mind. Thanks for coming.”

Natasha gave him an odd look, and sat on the other side of the bed, cross-legged and facing Bucky's back. “James?” she called softly. “It's me. Can I touch you?”

A quick nod.

“Thank you.” She reached for his head, finger-combing Bucky's hair. “We've got you, James. You're here, and you're safe.” She looked over at Steve and smiled. “I don't think there's a power in the universe that could get through Captain America and the Black Widow.”

Steve smiled back at her. God, she and Bucky fit together perfectly; he couldn't think of a better woman for his best friend.

Bucky gradually relaxed, held between their bodies, and drifted off to sleep for a little bit.

“We should give him a bath when he wakes up,” Natasha said softly. “That always helped...the warm water will feel good, make him be aware of his body.”

“It helped you?”

Nat nodded quickly, once, and Steve reached over to touch her shoulder. “Hey. I'm glad you're here.”

Natasha simply smiled at him, and lay down, one leg thrown over Bucky, pressing her body against his back.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one's a little short, but I think you'll understand why I picked this point to stop.
> 
> I'm going away for two weeks starting on Saturday, but I *think* I should be able to get the complete story up before then.

Steve eyed the batter, and decided that it would do. It wasn't lumpy, so he...probably had it right? No way else to find out – he threw in a few handfuls of blueberries and set the butter to melting in the pan.

He probably shouldn't have been surprised that he wasn't alone within a few seconds of the first stack being done. He _was_ a little startled that it was Natasha who had waltzed in, wearing only one of Bucky's long (although it certainly could have been longer, and Steve kept his eyes firmly _up_ so he wouldn't be able to comment on that) t-shirts. It wasn't that she was spending the night – Bucky had told him, shyly and with great joy, the first time _that_ had happened – but he hadn't even known she was in the apartment. He was proud of himself for not visibly startling.

“Oooh, breakfast! Steve, what was it like to learn to cook when all you had were open fires and mammoths?”

“Someone wants to wait for pancakes, I see,” Steve observed, but pushed the plate over to where she perched on the little breakfast bar as soon as Nat widened her eyes at him. “Fine. Syrup's already out.”

“You get first taste,” Nat said firmly. “Cook's privilege.” Steve made a face when she drizzled about half the jug of syrup onto her plate, but obediently leaned over and opened his mouth for the first fork-ful.

“Good?” Natasha asked, and smiled when he nodded. “Good boy.”

Steve rolled his eyes again and started on the next batch. “Is Bucky up, or will I get to eat my own breakfast sooner rather than later?”

“I asked him if he was awake and he just kind of grunted at me so...I don't know?”

“Oh. He'll stumble in for coffee soon, don't even try to talk to him if he doesn't open his eyes and immediately come awake,” Steve advised. “If he's in military mode it's fine, but don't bother with him before ten otherwise.” He smiled over at her. “It's annoying, but it's good. Means he feels safe.”

Nat nodded, and considering the dent she was putting in the pancakes, Steve figured she could have the next round too. “Thanks. Hey. Pretty nice having a boyfriend who comes with a living manual that makes breakfast.”

Steve laughed, and flipped the pancakes that were _definitely_ for her now. “I don't understand him, just known him longer. And hey, pretty nice having a best-friend's-girlfriend who appreciates my cooking.”

Nat grinned at him, and he grinned back, and good goddam but wasn't he lucky that mornings could be this easy and sweet.

He put the next batch onto her plate, and silenced any protest with a raised eyebrow. “Your Captain says eat, you eat.”

“What, is an empty stomach Hitler's playground or something?” She ate, though, and Steve nodded his approval.

He poured the batter again – and was glad he'd tripled the recipe – and turned back. And was struck by the simple happiness on Nat's face, a look he'd seen a little more since the fall of SHIELD, but not nearly enough.

“Hey.” He smiled, and tried to put all his affection into it, take all the kindness this woman had shown him and give it back to her somehow. “I know you don't need my blessing, so this isn't it. But...I'm happy for you both. Really happy. You're good for each other, and it's wonderful to get to be around it.”

“Aw, Steve. Stop.” Nat was smiling though, and he leaned over the narrow table to press a kiss to her forehead.

“You never give _me_ a kiss in the morning,” Bucky announced, as he shuffled into the kitchen. He was wearing a vastly oversized hoodie and sweatpants that had been cut off at the knee and both of them had seen better days. As had Bucky's hair.

“That's 'cause you don't appreciate good cooking,” Natasha told him. “Also I can use words in the morning.”

“I can use words,” Bucky mumbled, although it was pretty well lost in a yawn.

“You can have a kiss too,” Steve said, and wrapped an arm around Bucky's waist so he could press a kiss to his forehead. “And coffee.”

“This, Steve. This is why I followed you into war,” Bucky said, wrapping both hands around the mug Steve handed him and drinking deep. “God, yes.”

“Go sit down, your food is almost done,” Steve told him, and flipped the pancakes onto a plate.

“You eaten yet?”

“I'll get the next batch.”

Bucky frowned, and waved at him. “Eat those. Gotta wake up first anyway.” He slumped happily on his stool, leaning over to rest his head on Natasha's shoulder. “Hi, honey.”

“Morning, lazy.” She kissed the top of his head, though, and Steve dug into his pancakes, secretly hoping that they could have more Saturday mornings like this. He was happy to just...orbit their affection. To be allowed to have this warmth in his house, to cook for them, and have it all be okay.

* * *

Steve was _so happy_.

He was the happiest.

First, because he was tipsy, thanks to some Asgardian drink Thor had brought to the party. He didn't ask too many detailed questions (or any questions, actually), but it was light and sweet and made him giggly and loose-limbed and relaxed, which he definitely remembered from when he could get drunk before.

Second (and he guiltily thought he should probably have listed this first but _drinking_ he hadn't got drunk in so long even when he'd really, really needed it), he was surrounded by friends. He looked around at them, one by one, feeling happy and light and loving. Bruce, who was so gentle with him and good and they had gone out to lunch together a lot lately and he was so interesting and really really smart. Thor, who was as curious as Steve wanted to be, who so clearly loved the world. And who had brought Steve the gift of Dionysius. (No, wait – he was mixing his mythologies. Whatever.) And Jane who was kind and wise, always explaining things when he asked. Pepper was like that too, though she was a little sharper. Well, she'd need to be. He even liked Tony, who had a heart the size of Stark Tower and just hid it unbelievably well. And Clint who hid his intelligence the way Tony hid his kindness, who took everything in stride and never teased to hurt, ever.

And Nat and Bucky, sat together on the sofa. Steve knew he shouldn't play favorites, but he loved them best of all, unquestionably. Nat who made him taste her food, who made him go out and meet people and live in the world. Natasha Romanoff, who believed she owed the world so much. And Bucky-- who was beyond words. Best friend, the other part of his heart, the missing piece that had filled his life. Bucky was something beyond love. Was there something beyond love? Steve decided there had to be.

Natasha was in Bucky's lap, the two of them talking softly. Steve had the good manners to look away when Bucky leaned in and kissed her, and promptly ignored the slightly odd feeling that came from somewhere around his stomach. That would be the ale, because of course he found them both attractive, he'd always found men and women attractive and they were his friends so of _course_ he felt warm looking at them, but he could be not the weirdo who stared at them making out.

“Is Captain America actually drunk?” Bruce sat down beside him, looking extremely relaxed.

“A bit. Is Dr. Banner...tipsy?” Steve guessed, and raised an eyebrow when Bruce shook his head.

“Dr. Banner is thoroughly baked,” he corrected Steve. “I don't want to find out the hard way I'm an angry drunk, you know?”

“I know,” Steve assured him, and slouched down on the sofa, putting his feet up on the low table across from them. He probably should not have felt vaguely like a rebel for doing so.

“So are they as sickening to live with as to work with?” Bruce asked, nodding at Bucky and Natasha.

“I heard that!” Bucky called, looking up briefly.

“I know!” Bruce called back, and grinned when Natasha gave him the finger.

“Honestly? They really aren't.” Steve took another sip of the sweet...mead? Probably mead, the All-Speak wasn't too clear about that. “It's nice having them around. I try to get out and give them the place to themselves as much as I can but...it's not bad when I can't get away.” When he didn't want to leave the safe rooms, when he couldn't, quite, face even going to the Tower, let alone DC to annoy Sam for a long weekend. When he just wanted to be around his friends, and they were fun and kind. “Really good, actually.”

Bruce smiled at him, a slow secret smile. “Good. Hey,” he knocked his shoulder against Steve's. “How'd the date with Sarah go?”

Steve made a face. “Tell Betty thank you, and I'm sorry.”

“Seriously, that bad?”

“No. Not bad, just...” Steve huffed out a sigh. “She's a great girl. We had a good night. I mean, she's a _really_ great girl, just...I don't know. It's a lot to inflict...everything, on some poor random lady.”

Bruce raised an eyebrow and Steve wondered if there was some ritual prayer that he'd have to recite to Thor, or if he could just yell a request to be struck by lightening until he was dead. “Fuck! No! That's not – you're not inflicting anything on Betty – I just – Oh, God.”

“Yes?” said three separate people as Steve buried his face in his hands.

Bruce just laughed and patted Steve's back. “I cannot believe I got Captain America to say 'fuck'. And I'm not offended, Steve, it's all right. I know what you mean.”

“I'm _so_ sorry.”

“I know. It's okay.” Bruce smiled at Steve, and handed him his glass. “Drink up and you may not even remember this tomorrow. And Steve. You know you're allowed to have fun, right? Just date for fun. Or not at all, if you don't want to.”

“I know. Thanks.” Steve took another sip, the stuff was starting to burn a bit. “Thank you.”

“You're welcome. Now if you'll excuse me, Tony looks like he wants to play with fire, and Pepper isn't paid enough to deal with that.”

Steve laughed, and nodded his goodbye. He slouched happily, accepting a refill when Thor found him, and let the party wash over him, the noise and the music and the heavy, special feeling in the air.

People started to drift away in ones and twos, Bruce to go to bed, Thor and Tony to go out to some club that Tony owned, Clint to wherever he went, until there was only him, Bucky and Natasha.

“Hey. You're too far away.” Nat held out her hands, making grabby motions. “Come sit with us.”

Steve smiled shyly, and was very proud that he was actually able to stand up and make his way across the ten feet or so that separated them, not even wobbling a little. They'd separated, obviously intending for him to sit between them, which might have been weird had he been a little more sober, a little more able to second-guess himself.

“No, like this.” Nat pushed him, and Bucky pulled, so that he was lying with his head and shoulders in Nat's lap and his legs draped over Bucky's. Natasha immediately started petting his hair, and Bucky's hand was big and warm on his thigh, so he relaxed and smiled up at them.

“Hi.”

“Hi, drunky.” Bucky grinned and squeezed Steve's knee. “So who the hell is Sarah and why haven't I heard about her?”

Steve groaned, and not just because Nat's hands were magic. “There's nothing to hear. She's a friend of Betty Ross'. We went on one date. There will not be another. And I'm not really drunk, if anyone cares.”

Bucky frowned at that. “She treat you right?”

“Bucky, you're supposed to ask if _I_ treated _her_ right,” Steve said in exasperation. “And yes. To both. We had dinner and went to a play and she's very pretty and I felt absolutely nothing for her.” He scowled, and wondered if he'd managed to have too much to drink. “Can we not talk about my failure of a love life?”

“Of course, Stevie,” Nat soothed, stroking the thin skin around Steve's eyes. “No more about it, I promise.”

“I'm sorry,” Bucky added softly, and Steve found his hand, squeezing it lightly and rubbing his thumb over the metal plates, idly following the line where they joined.

“Don't apologize. I snapped over nothing. Just.” Steve tried to smile, and hoped he succeeded. “First I've got to find someone who can see past the costume, then they've got to actually _like_ me and be okay with the whole superhero thing and _then_ they have to be all right with the fact that I will probably never really want to have sex with them. That's a pretty tall order.”

“Doesn't mean you don't deserve someone, if you want them,” Bucky countered. “You were a catch in 1939 and you're a catch now. Just don't forget that, okay?”

Steve was pretty sure his smile was real now. “I won't. Thanks. Both of you.”

Nat was still massaging his scalp, but took a moment to tug on one earlobe. “Hey, we take care of each other.”

“Mmm.” Steve rested on them for a few long minutes. “Shouldn't have to take care o' me.”

“Oh, this I want to hear,” Bucky's voice was wry, but with a little real anger beneath it. Weird.

Steve kept his eyes closed, because the room was a little warm, and he felt floaty and nice like this. “Serum fixed everything up. Got enough money now. Never gonna go hungry again, don't get sick. If I get hurt I heal in a few days. Got a good life, shouldn't need...more. 'Sides you got each other.”

“Oh my God,” Natasha said, in a voice Steve had previously associated with people having religious visions. “Oh my _God_.”

“Yes, he has always been this stupid,” Bucky confirmed. “Steve, Jesus.”

“Oh my _God_.”

“ _What_?” Steve opened his eyes and shot them both irritated looks. “Tell me one part of that that isn't true.”

Bucky just rolled his eyes, leaned over, and kissed Steve.

Steve melted into it, because he was still a tiny bit drunk and Bucky was beautiful, and the man could _kiss_ , and because it wasn't just a kiss – it was tender, and caring, it was permission for Steve to be unhappy and to hurt _and_ still be happy sometimes. 

“Unh!” He sat up and pushed Bucky away, although not very strongly. “What was-- Nat--” He turned to face her, terrified, but she was smiling and wrapped a hand around the back of his neck and claimed her own kiss.

She tasted a little like Bucky, but mostly like herself, her mouth smaller than Bucky's and her kiss a little less sweet, but with the same soft emotion. “Is this okay?” she asked gently when they parted. “Just think about yourself, Steve, for twelve seconds. Is kissing both of us okay?”

“ _Yes_ ,” Steve said, and he didn't mean for it to come out like a sob, but the two of them surged towards him together and he drank kisses from first one mouth, then the other. Bucky got creative first, trailing his mouth down Steve's jaw, and Nat was the first one to figure out how they could all three kiss each other at the same time, and it was squished and Steve was all twisted around, but it was so damn good, the way these people he loved showed him love in return.

“Hey,” Bucky murmured, after who-knows-how-long. “Not that I don't appreciate making out on Stark's sofa, but we've got a big bed.”

“Um,” said Steve,” and Bucky stroked the side of his face, his hand rough and hard and so tender.

“Just for sleeping, baby,” he says. “Just so you don't have to sleep alone.” He winked then, and smiled so that Steve could see the lines around his eyes. “And some more making out, if you'd like.”

“I'd like,” Steve said quickly, and he was _definitely_ still a little tipsy, but he didn't feel it anymore. He wasn't giddy, or floaty – he'd never felt more himself, more present, except for when he was fighting.

“Good.” Nat wrapped her arms around him for a moment and kissed his cheek. “C'mon. We're taking you home.”

Steve decided instantly that there were no sweeter words in the whole world, and they both held his hands as they took the elevator to Steve and Bucky's quarters (because they shared here too – why wouldn't they?), and Bucky's bedroom with its huge bed and Steve laughed when they bookended him here, too.

“Thank you,” he managed to say before another assault of kisses.

None of them were ever sure how long it took them to fall asleep, later. Minutes or hours of touching, wrapping around each other, the two of them pressed so close to Steve, who drank in the contact, not even aware he'd been missing it. Not even aware he liked _touching_ so much, but he reveled in it, tangling his fingers in Bucky's hair as they kissed, or rubbing his hand up and down Nat's back, appreciating the strength just underneath the silky fabric.

However long it took, they eventually fell asleep wrapped in one another.


	3. Chapter 3

Steve was the first to wake up.

He came awake all at once, which was the usual way of things – he'd never lost the habits of wartime. It wasn't until he realized he was still tangled with Bucky and Nat, both of them still fast asleep, that his heart started pounding.

Shit, shit, shit.

Last night. That was a thing that happened.

He _made out_ with his best friend. And made out with his other friend, who happened to be said best friend's girlfriend. Kissed them both. His hands were everywhere (just above the waist, he was pretty sure, and thank _God_ for that), and he'd kissed them both over and over and he'd loved it. He'd felt so cherished and treasured and he'd thought there would be no way to show how happy they made them.

Shit.

“I'm sorry,” he breathed to the air. “I'm _so_ sorry.”

Okay, first step, extricate himself. Nat was curled into his side, one arm across his chest, and Bucky was face-down on his other side, his left arm heavy across Steve's waist.

Bucky would _probably_ keep sleeping, he decided, and moved his arm first. He paused while Bucky made a little grumbly noise, but he settled and didn't wake up.

Right, he could just move Nat's arm and then turn on his side and –

“Steve?”

“Shh, go back to sleep,” Steve murmured, shifting so that her arm stretched out across the space where he'd been. It looked a little like she was reaching for Bucky.

“Mmm. Kay.” Nat went still, asleep again in moments.

Steve let out a breath, and slipped away, going to his room to change. If he stopped and thought about the night before, he'd start shaking, so he jogged down to the gym a few floors below. He could shower down there, and there was a spare set of clothes in his locker, so he could go straight out and maybe avoid the two of them for the rest of his day.

Or the rest of his life. That would be okay too.

 

* * *

 

Steve was two hours into a workout, and was not nearly exhausted yet, although he might have been getting close. Shieldwork took it out of him like that – not just the strength behind the throws, but calculating the angles, the surfaces he could use, the ways he could get the disc to work for him. He was working up to more and more complex patterns when he threw the shield and, instead of it returning, he heard a bell-like noise behind him.

He wasn't too surprised to turn and see Bucky, left arm outstretched, holding the shield.

“Buck.” He licked his lips and wondered why he felt so frozen in place. “I'm sorry.”

“For waking up and sneaking out early? You'd better be.” Bucky lowered his arm and stared him down, eyes gone icy. “That's not what you're sorry for, though.”

Steve shook his head. “I'm...last night. I'm sorry. I had no right – I won't, again – I mean I understand if you're angry...”

Bucky took a step closer. “Yes, I am very fucking angry with you.”

Steve did not step back. He had been a selfish asshole and he deserved this. “I told you I'm fucking sorry. I never meant to come between you and Nat. I never meant...any of this. Just forget it like it never happened.”

“Oh my blessed Jesus and all the saints.” Bucky stopped dead, and Steve actually _did_ step back at the fury in his eyes. “Do you ever actually listen to what other people are saying? _Ever_? Especially if it doesn't fit into your martyred worldview?”

“Huh?”

“I _said--”_ Bucky took another step and raised the shield. “Do you ever _listen_ to me?” He threw it, hard, and Steve ducked instinctively, turning to catch it on the rebound from the back wall.

“Bucky, what the hell was that for?”

Bucky folded his arms. “Listen to me carefully. I am going to walk you through this. You, Natasha and I are all adults in our right minds, capable of making decisions about things like placing explosives in Hydra facilities and who we want to put our mouths on, correct?”

“Um. Yes?”

“And although we had all had plenty to drink last night, not one of us was so drunk that we could not be trusted to make good decisions. Correct?”

“I...yes?” Steve hadn't really gotten drunk all night – more like tipsy. Nat and Bucky had certainly been relaxed, but they'd been more sober than he was the whole night.

“So all three of us agreed on every single thing that happened, from the first time I kissed you to when we all fell asleep in the same bed.”

“Yes. But --”

Bucky held up a hand, a sharp, liquid movement that James Buchanan Barnes had never in his life used. “Shut up, I'm talking now. _We all enjoyed ourselves last night_. So what the fuck are you apologizing for?”

“Um.” Steve didn't expect the way all the energy ran out of him at once. He lowered the shield and sat down, only a little too quickly. “I don't...know. You really had fun?”

“Yes. We both did.” Bucky sighed, and came over to sit across from him, crosslegged where Steve had pulled his knees to his chest. “Until I woke up and you weren't there.”

“So you came to find me?”

“Yes. I lost the coin toss.” There was the faintest hint of a smile, just for a moment. “Why did you leave? Did you really think we'd be angry at you?”

“Not angry. Just...that it would have all been a big mistake.” Steve hugged his knees, feeling very small again, the way he hadn't felt in a long time. “That you'd...regret it. Me.”

“So you ran away before we could push you away. Steve, is it fun denying yourself any fragment of joy and then feeling horribly guilty every time you do enjoy yourself by accident?”

“Hey, fuck you.” Steve glared at him. “I don't do that. And you're a fine one to talk.”

“Yes, I am, because I've known you almost all of my life and you haven't changed one bit. And I _did_ change,” Bucky growled. “I had to.”

“Oh, right, because I'm still the angry punk kid from Brooklyn spoiling for a fight,” Steve said, and paused. “Oh.”

“'Oh' is right.” Bucky sighed. “I was wrong, by the way. You did change. You're sadder now. You have no fucking notion of where you belong in this world and I am telling you that you have a place to belong now, and that's right by my side, no matter what.”

Steve blinked. “Am I really that sad?”

“Sometimes, yeah.” Bucky shrugged. “Sometimes not. But yes, you are still that angry boy. You just hide it. Not very well, of course, but yeah.”

Steve smiled a little, awkward and not sure if it was real. “Well, you're still an asshole who's too handsome for his own good, so you did okay there.”

Bucky laughed, and shoved Steve's leg. “Stop it, I'm yelling at you.”

“Did you really lose a coin toss?”

“Yes, and lucky for you. And stop distracting me.”

“Sorry. For distracting you. And for running off.” Steve curled a little tighter. “I'm sorry for everything.”

“God, I _know_. Has it occurred to you yet that I don't want you to be sorry? You had fun last night, right?”

“ _Yes_.” Oh, fun didn't even cover it. He'd felt loved and wanted, he'd been overwhelmed that they wanted _him_ , _Steve_ , with all his faults, with nothing more asked of him than what he was comfortable with. That Bucky had asked, so gently, if it was okay to run his hand up under Steve's shirt, and that Nat had checked in with him almost constantly.

“Good. So did I. So did Natasha.” Bucky smiled softly, and held out his hand. “And now that we're done screaming and throwing shit at each other, would you like to get your head out of your ass and join us for breakfast?”

“Um. Yes. Thank you.” Steve reached out sheepishly, his hand twining with Bucky's, and he let the other man pull him to his feet – and keep pulling until they had their arms around each other.

“Asshole.”

“You're an asshole,” Steve mumbled, holding on for just a moment, giving himself this minute where nothing mattered but that Bucky was here and his arms were tight and strong.

“C'mere.” Bucky rested his hands on Steve's shoulders and tilted his head up, just brushing their lips together. “Don't you fucking ever run away from me again. It doesn't work. I should know.”

“I won't,” Steve breathed, suddenly fighting back tears. “I didn't – I'm sorry...”

“I thought we agreed that that wasn't necessary.” Bucky was smiling though, and he hugged Steve again. “Give me and Nat a little credit, please? You don't gotta die for the sins of the world, Stevie.”

“Not planning on it. Credit given. What's for breakfast?”

Bucky laughed, and turned so he still had an arm around Steve's shoulder while they walked out of the practice room. “First you're getting a shower, because you're disgusting. Next, I'll make us all eggs, okay?”

“Okay. Thanks, Buck.”

“Somebody's gotta save you from yourself.”

Steve rolled his eyes, but didn't disagree as they rode up to their apartment. He successfully avoided Nat on the way to the shower, and may or may not have picked out a dark blue hooded shirt because he knew he looked good in it. Dark, nearly black jeans and bare feet and he was pretty sure neither of them would change their minds and kick his ass. Almost certain, actually.

He still felt a little shy, walking into the small kitchen. Bucky was at the stove making slow-cooked scrambled eggs, with Nat beside him buttering toast.

Maybe if he just...acted like nothing had gone wrong? He wandered over and hooked his chin over Nat's shoulder. “Hey.”

Natasha turned her head, and kissed his cheek. “Steve. Jam?”

“Um. No, thank you.” He bit his lip. “Will Bucky punch me if I apologize to you?”

“No, but he might eat your share of breakfast, Rogers. Jam for me, please, Nat,” Bucky said from the stove.

Nat reached over and pinched Bucky's side, making him jump and yelp – rather attractively, Steve thought. “There will be no punching over breakfast, and Steve will eat his share. Apology accepted. Thank you for coming back up with him.”

“Nat, of course I did.” Steve wrapped his arms around her waist and hugged her, hard. And didn't give a shit that he could feel the knife hidden under her t-shirt, she was soft and warm and _Nat_.

“Steven Rogers, you are ridiculous,” she announced, and reached back to pinch him as well. “Toast is ready. Eggs?”

“In a few minutes.” Bucky eyed the half-cooked eggs carefully while Steve made himself useful setting the table, and they settled down, basking in the mid-morning sunlight.

* * *

“We should talk like grown-ups, but I want to do it in comfort at least,” Nat finally said, when they'd finished eating and were on second cups of coffee.

Bucky nodded and headed for the big sofa, brushing his hand over Steve's shoulders as he went. Steve dragged his feet, wanting the nice morning to last. Well – they were still friends, and he hadn't broken anything between Bucky and Nat. He hadn't expected even that this morning, and these were his _friends_. They'd be gentle and take care of him, after they told him that the kissing had been a one-time thing, that Steve was nice but wasn't quite right for all sorts of reasons.

Nat perched sideways at one end of the sofa, and Bucky sat beside her, so Steve took Bucky's other side, turning to face them both.

He took a deep breath, preparing to explain that he'd had fun, but it was okay if they just wanted to be friends – more than okay really – when Nat started speaking.

“Bucky and I talked. We...last night was good, Steve. Really good. And you know we both...care for you, very much. So,” she paused, and smiled. “You should know that Bucky's plan was to get Clint to pass you a note with 'Do you like us? Check one yes or no'” on it.”

“Huh?”

“Oh, c'mon Steve, I know for a _fact_ you got at least four of those notes passed to you in the sixth grade,” Bucky said, nudging him. “I wrote one of 'em myself.”

“You did _what_?”

“I got tired of listening to you whine about how none of the girls liked you, so I wrote you one myself. Anonymous, of course.” Bucky grinned, looking entirely too pleased with himself. “Would have signed my name to it anyway, if it wouldn'ta got my ass kicked.”

“Oh, Bucky.” Steve blushed. “And you too, Nat. Are you sure you want me?”

“Yes.”

“Yes.”

“You've met me, right?”

Natasha actually laughed at that. “Yes, Steve, we have met you and we still like you. I know that's a difficult concept to adjust to.”

“And...you don't mind the, um, asexual thing?” Steve looked down, crossing his arms over his stomach. “I mean, I don't have anything against sex, I can make sure you enjoy yourself and all, so it's not like you'd miss out --”

“Whoa, hey, whoa, pause!” Bucky touched Steve's chin with two fingers, gently lifting it so their eyes could meet. “Nope. It doesn't work that way. I will never, ever ask you to do anything you're not getting full pleasure out of, got it? You never, ever, _ever_ have to do anything you don't want to, with either of us. Clear?”

“Clear,” Steve said softly, and smiled. “Buck, I don't hate the thought of sex with other people or anything. It's just...not at the top of my list.”

“Still. Not fair, if you're just feeling obliged. _Or_ if you don't get anything out of it,” Bucky set his jaw, and Steve could have kissed him. So he did. And then Nat, just for good measure.

“So that's a yes, then,” Nat said, sliding so she sat on Bucky's lap and twining her hand with Steve's.

“Is it that easy? Really?”

“Apparently.” Bucky leaned himself and Nat against Steve, resting his head on Steve's shoulder. “Something ought to be easy for us.”

Nat sighed and sat upright, giving them both looks. “It is and it isn't. It's easy to say things about wanting and caring and loving. It's quite another to live them.”

“Oh, God, we're going to have to talk about our feelings,” Bucky mumbled, turning so his face pressed into Steve's shoulder.

“What do you take me for? I expect us to work out our differences through sparring. Like the well-adjusted adults we are.” Nat petted his head, having exactly no effect. “It's worked so far.”

“She's...not wrong?” Steve laughed and rubbed his nose lightly on the top of Bucky's head, because he could. “Check in with me, Buck. Actually uncomfortable or exploiting the chance for affection?”

“Um. Both?” Bucky shifted so that he was curled between them. “Not uncomfortable, exactly. Off-balance. Didn't expect this to happen this way. Or maybe ever?”

“What did you expect, baby?”

Bucky made a face at the pet-name, but didn't argue. “More talking. Slower. Not sorry this way, but...” He pursed his lips and made a face. Steve brushed a hand down his jaw – clenched hard.

“Need to be quiet?” Natasha asked, and kissed Bucky's brow when he nodded. “It's okay. Do you want to lie down?”

Bucky shook his head, and Steve wrapped his arms around him. “Want to put a movie on?” he asked. “Or just sit here while Nat and I talk?” He laughed when Bucky pinched him twice. “Okay, I deserved that. Second option it is. I've got you, baby, we both do.”

“Be quiet as long as you need,” Nat said, shifting so that she lay down, head resting on Bucky's hip. “Steve and I will just gossip about everyone else on the team and make as many double entendres as humanly possible.”

“Nat, Tony's a walking single entendre, that's too easy.”

“You just lack imagination Rogers.”

Steve argued with her happily, more than a little glad of the distraction. From nothing to having two people who clearly adored him and cared for him and refused to ask more than he was willing to give – well, he and Bucky tried to stagger even their minor meltdowns, so it was best to not think too hard, just fall back into friendship. Just, this time, there was a promise of more.


	4. Chapter 4

Steve rolled Bucky on top of him, pressing kisses to the points of his cheekbones.

“Hey, gorgeous,” he murmured between kisses, tasting Bucky's lips and cataloguing how they were different from how the corners of his eyes tasted, from how the pulse point below his jaw felt against his mouth.

“Ngh, Stevie.” Bucky groaned, shifting against Steve, and then froze in place. “Shit! Sorry.”

“For what? Oh.” Steve smiled, feeling Bucky's cock swell against his thigh. “Don't be sorry. Kinda flattering you find me attractive and all.”

Bucky shot him a dirty look. “Right, because it's a shock to you that you're the hottest thing around.”

Steve rolled his eyes. “Thor. Natasha. Tony if he ever dressed nicely. I am far from the hottest thing around.” He grinned, and kissed Bucky lightly. “'Sides, I only got eyes for one guy right now, and he's _definitely_ winning that competition.”

“Shut up.” Bucky nuzzled Steve's throat a little. “You're gorgeous, and I love you, and you ought to know that by now.”

“I do,” Steve said, very quietly. “Doesn't mean it's not like Christmas morning every time you tell me.”

“Oh, Stevie...” Bucky rolled them over so they lay on their sides, and he peppered Steve's face with kisses. “Can I take your shirt off?”

“Only if you take yours off too.”

They undressed one another and pressed close again, Steve running his hands down Bucky's back, loving the feel of the warm skin, tender with the scars under his fingertips. “Gorgeous.”

“God, Stevie, to look at you,” Bucky breathed, then paused and bit his lip. “Fuck, the way you look at _me_.”

Steve stroked his hand down Bucky's chest, resting his fingertips on the soft skin of his stomach. “Like you're precious to me? Like I could spend hours just touching you and never get bored?”

Bucky moaned softly, and rested his hand on Steve's waist. They'd been playing around nearly every day, all three of them, finding out what they all liked, figuring out how to include Steve. And, for Steve, figuring out what he liked and didn't like with two tender, eager lovers. (He loved kisses and cuddling, and hands as long as they didn't stray below his waist – including foot rubs because ew, feet. He liked nuzzling, didn't like biting, and was happy to sleep in his old bed if Bucky and Nat were having sex. It was a rare morning he didn't wake up with one or both of them draped across him, anyway.)

“Baby, if you need to get yourself off, it's okay,” Steve murmured, exploring the incredibly soft skin just behind Bucky's ears with the tip of his tongue.

“Seriously?” Bucky pushed himself up onto his elbows, meeting Steve's eyes. “You wouldn't mind?”

“Of course not. Bucky, I'm not horrified by the idea of sex it's just...” He shrugged. “It's like...like when Pepper and Clint get to talking about shoes. I don't want to join in, and I don't particularly care about what they think, or what shoes they buy, but being there when they go on and on about it doesn't bother me.”

Bucky nodded, and kissed him, just their lips pressing together. “I get it. But you gotta promise, if you do start to feel bad about it, in any way, you tell me, okay? Please, Stevie.”

Steve smiled, more bemused than anything else. “It's not a big deal, Buck. But I promise.”

“Not to you, maybe. But it's a very big deal to me.” Bucky cupped Steve's face one hand, and Steve actually felt dizzy for a few moments from the look on Bucky's face. A fierce, fierce tenderness, protectiveness running so deep that even Steve couldn't get touchy about it.  This time.

“I promise,” Steve whispered again, and pressed his mouth to Bucky's, the familiar scent of him mixing with the new sensations, the taste of him still un-memorized. He was vaguely aware that Bucky had reached down and popped the zipper on his jeans, his hand starting to move.

Steve kept his hands on Bucky's shoulders, but never let up on the slow, sweet kisses, blessing every part of Bucky's face, tracing the lines of his throat, down to the fine bones of his collarbone and shoulders. He murmured nonsense when Bucky shook under his hands, crying out, and gathered him close when he was quiet again.

“Good?” he asked when Bucky's eyes opened again.

“Good,” he confirmed, and sighed, resting his forehead against Steve's for the moment. “So good. 'm so lucky.”

“Nat was right, you _do_ turn into a sap,” Steve teased, stroking Bucky's hair back, smoothing the long, soft strands. “You're beautiful.”

Bucky made a face at him, and kissed him, light and sweet and a little silly. “Lemme go clean myself off. Don't go anywhere.”

“Not planning on it,” Steve promised, curling up on his side as Bucky got up and ducked into the bathroom for a moment. Even alone, their bed was a warm, welcoming place to him now, and he let himself doze for a few seconds, until Bucky came back and they could wrap around each other again.

* * *

“See? Now you're following me, so you'll see the new recipes I pin,” Nat explained. “And I'll see what you put up.”

“Oooh, mug cakes.” Steve tapped the picture and scrolled through the ingredients. “Do we have any cocoa powder?”

“Nah, Clint and I drank the last of it last night, sorry.”

“I'm going to start changing him rent, I swear,” Steve said.

They were sitting together on the sofa, both with feet up on the coffee table, knees bent identically and the StarkPad shared across their legs. Nat rested her head against his, and they flicked through recipes together.

“Now that's a sight a man likes coming home to.” They looked up in unison to see Bucky leaning against the doorframe, a little grubby from leading field exercises for the new, fucking-well-better-be-improved SHIELD. He looked a little worn, and had gotten thoroughly soaked at some recent point if his hair was anything to go by.  Nat gave him an appreciative wolf-whistle.

“I'm just showing my sister-wife around Pinterest,” she said, and pouted her lips in a little kiss.

Bucky blew her a kiss back, as Steve yelped in protest. “I'm _your_ sister-wife?”

“What, like I'd be yours?” Nat smirked at him. “I kissed him first.”

“I've known him longer?” Steve grinned and bumped his nose into her forehead. “Ugh. You win.”

“You're both insane,” Bucky declared, coming over to kiss them both hello. “And I need a shower.”

“Yes, you do.” Nat wrinkled her nose, but she also raised her hand to cup Bucky's face, just for a moment. “Good day?”

“Good day,” he confirmed, and laughed when Steve stole another kiss. “Seriously, I'm disgusting, let me go rinse off at least.”

“Oh, 'cause that'll change things,” Steve said as Nat gave his bottom a good smack, but they finally let him go.

Steve pressed a long kiss just in front of her ear, since he could, and Nat was beautiful and he loved her. “Hey, you.”

Nat rolled her eyes, but put the StarkPad aside, curling over so that her legs were over Steve's lap, and he could pull her close for a kiss or six.

“Was that what used to get you all the girls, then?”

“Nope. But that's because I never got any girls. And if I called you dollface, you'd deck me.”

Nat laughed, and wrapped her arms around Steve's neck, kissing him with surprising tenderness. “Nah. Way too predictable.”

“So you'd let me go on thinking it was perfectly fine to refer to you as my best girl...”

“Mmmhmm.” Nat kissed him again, brushing her lips over his mouth, tracing the line of his jaw, to nuzzle a little beneath one ear. “Reward you with a kiss, even.”

“And then when I least expected it?”

“Attack,” Nat said, and he felt some _very_ sharp fingertips dig into his side.

Steve yelped and squirmed, trying to get away from her. “Fuck! Who told you!”

Nat laughed, tickling him mercilessly, moving one hand to attack behind his knee. “Told me what?”

“The serum,” Steve gasped in between laughter. “Never used to be ticklish. Makes everything...more...sensitive!”

“Oh my God, this is the best thing.” Steve hadn't even known it was possible for a real person to cackle, but that was the only way to describe the noise Natasha was emitting.

He managed to plant his feet and push off, half-falling off of the sofa and starting to crawl away when Natasha grabbed his ankle and he was helpless again under her fingers, laughing so hard his stomach hurt.

Steve hadn't noticed Bucky coming back until a sudden heavy weight announced that he'd flopped over onto both of them, making himself as much a dead weight as possible.

“Oh, fuck off.”

Bucky laughed, clear and sweet as a bell, and Steve forgot to breathe for a moment – which probably wasn't helped when the two of them joined forces, Bucky going for his knees and belly and Nat tickling under his arms as he thrashed around, trying to protect himself from them.

“Stop, stop, uncle!” he gasped out between giggles. “Can't _breathe.”_

They both stilled, and Steve gasped for breath, grinning so hard it almost ached.

Bucky curled up, resting his head on Nat's hip and reaching over to rub Steve's belly lightly. “That's new, right? You being ticklish.”

“Uh huh.” Steve put his arm around Natasha's shoulders, encouraging her to rest her head on his chest. “It was the serum.”

“Did it make everything just...more?” she asked.

Steve nodded, running his fingers through her hair. “Yeah. I mean, at first I thought it was just 'cause it fixed my vision and my hearing, but it wasn't just that. Everything feels stronger. Emotions, touches, all've it.” Good and bad; that was the gift and the curse.

“I think I got that a little bit,” Bucky said quietly. “When you're sad, it's like you're being scraped out from the inside?”

Steve nodded, and put his hand over Bucky's. “And when you're happy, it's like you're in love with the whole world?”

Bucky turned his wrist so they were holding hands. “Yeah. And when you love someone...”

“Yeah,” Steve said quietly, and squeezed, and shifted so he could kiss Nat, slow at first, then nudging her mouth open with the tip of his tongue.

She sighed, stretching languidly, and Steve moved so that her head was pillowed on his arm, and they could kiss deep and long. She tasted so good, smelled so good, was everything that was tender and feminine, and he was overwhelmed for a moment at the woman in his arms. Such incredible strength and bravery, such softness and kindness, all rolled together, and he keened a little, kissing her harder.

Natasha moaned and shifted against him, and Steve looked down to see Bucky kissing up the inside of her thighs, already rucking up the dress she was wearing. Their eyes met, and Bucky quirked an eyebrow. Steve nodded once, quickly, and returned his attention to Nat. He drew out each kiss, made it gentle and tender, stroking her hair as she writhed in his arms.

He smiled a little when she couldn't even cry their names out any more, just made soft, low sounds, her legs over Bucky's shoulders now, dress up around her waist. Steve soothed and petted, held her tenderly and forgot how to breathe when he watched the beauty in his arms unravel before him.

“Beautiful,” he whispered, pressing tender kisses to her hairline, just above one eye, the curve of her cheekbones. “So amazing, Nat. God, I love you.”

She melted close, and Bucky crawled up to lie on the other side of her so that she was held between the two men. Steve kissed Bucky on the cheek, and they returned to murmuring soft, caring things as Natasha's breathing evened out and she curled between them, no one particularly caring that they were sprawled out on the living room floor without a shred of dignity left.

* * *

This was supposed to be the _easy_ mission. An abandoned house, half-gutted, no heat signature showing through the thin brick walls. Go in, get any intel, burn it to the ground – the same thing they had done at every Hydra hole so far.

They'd gone in joking and laughing, Bucky and Natasha flirting with each other outrageously until Steve literally separated them, one hand on each of their faces shoving them apart.

And now he knelt over Nat, hands pressed to her chest, trying to stop the bleeding, the horrible sucking sound that meant her chest cavity had been pierced and that she was dying by inches.

Bucky crouched over them, protecting them both from the hail of bullets with Steve's shield. He was firing back, his rhythm steady until it stuttered and he went to his knees.

There was blood on his neck, far too much blood pouring and disappearing into the black of his uniform and Steve howled, reaching out, touching, _feeling_ the edges of the wound –

“Shh, shh. Wake up, Stevie. Wake up, it's all right, you're safe.” His eyes flew open and he choked on a cry that left him bent over coughing. When he came back to himself, tears still falling down his face, he was pressed against Bucky's chest with Nat to his back, her strong hands rubbing his shoulders, calling him back to himself.

“You're okay,” Bucky murmured. “You're safe, Steve.”

“Dreamed you were dying, both of you,” Steve managed, and craned his head around so he could see Nat, sleepy-eyed but whole and alive, her body pressing against his.

“Just a dream,” she murmured. “Just a nightmare. We're here, Steve.”

Bucky combed his fingers through Steve's hair and held him close, gently encouraging them to match breathing, so that gradually his heart slowed, and he relaxed, held between them.

“Sorry,” he mumbled, and smiled a little when Bucky pinched him. “Well I am.”

“Well you don't need to be.” Bucky kissed him lightly, and then Natasha did too, her arms stealing around his waist, and Steve gathered them both close, just for a moment. It was just past dawn, and he'd gone to bed alone, but the state of the bedding testified that they had joined him in the night.

“Sleep a little more?” Nat asked quietly, and Steve nodded, she and Bucky linking hands around him. He wasn't really sure he would fall back asleep, but the two of them deserved a few more hours, and if he was awake, at least he wasn't alone.

Before the sun had risen much more, though, all three of them were fast asleep, all pressed tight together, Steve held between the people he loved best in all the world.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. Hooray! It's done! There will be more short stories in this universe, certainly -- this OT3's become very dear to me. Not sure I've got another big story in me, but we shall see.
> 
> 2\. Thank you everyone for your comments and kudos, they really really encourage me :)
> 
> 3\. I'm on tumblr, come hang out with me: dietraumerei.tumblr.com


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